by Sue Brown
It took a few tries, but eventually Keenan pulled a pint that Dan considered acceptable, and Dan took him through the rest of the drinks. Thank God he wasn’t going to have to make cocktails straightaway. These drinks were simple enough.
“I expect you to learn about the different beers,” Dan said, “but you don’t need to know it all at once. Just ask me, Eddie, or Bradley if anyone asks you a question you can’t answer.”
Keenan swiftly realized Dan was incredibly proud of Cowboys and Angels. He listened to a quick history of the place and discovered it had been run by Gideon’s late wife. His jaw dropped. “Gideon was married to a woman?” How did Dan feel about that? Keenan struggled with the concept of bisexuality, having met a few guys who’d said they were bi but were on the way to being gay. He’d never met a guy who loved women as much as men. Or maybe he had but he just didn’t know enough about being bi. He wisely decided to keep his mouth shut.
“You have a very expressive face,” Dan said. He looked more amused than annoyed.
Yeah, Keenan was crap at playing poker. “I’m sorry.”
“Just don’t mention it in front of Gideon.”
“His wife?” Keenan asked.
“The fact you don’t believe in bisexuality.”
“It’s not that I don’t believe people can be bi,” Keenan protested, trying to retrieve the situation. “I don’t usually ask guys what they are.” Keenan was more interested in what was in their pants than what they labeled themselves. If they wanted to suck his dick, he thought of them as gay.
“I was the same,” Dan admitted, “but Gideon convinced me to think different. As far as he’s concerned, the sun shines out of my ass. I feel the same way about him, so hands off.”
Keenan resisted the urge to shove his hands behind his back. His hands were going nowhere near either Dan or Gideon. “Is that rule number three?”
“Yeah.” Dan grinned at him. “He’s funny like that. Most of the rules affect Gideon and Ariel. The rest is just common sense.”
“What else do I need to know?”
“You’ll learn. You can serve the next few customers.”
Keenan was going to get thrown in the deep end. Oh well, he’d sink or swim. He forced a smile on his face. “I can do this.”
Chapter 7
KEENAN YAWNED and scratched his belly as he contemplated the contents of his kitchen cabinets. He had a whole free day ahead of him because he’d worked for the last four days. He was going to have to use it to catch up on chores. Keenan made a face, but he’d be wearing his bathrobe to Cowboys and Angels if he didn’t do laundry soon.
He needed to eat. He hadn’t eaten since the day before, and now it was lunchtime and he was hungry. Slight problem. He needed food to eat. The cupboard was embarrassingly bare—catsup, chamomile tea bags, pickles, and tuna. He could make a sandwich if he had any bread, but he’d had to dump the remains of the loaf in the trash. He didn’t want to think what he was growing.
“Okay, first, clothes in washing machine. Then we’re going to the bodega.”
There was one store on the block and it was limited, but he only wanted the basics—cereal, bread, milk, and bacon. He’d cover all the basic food groups. Keenan heard his mother whisper in his mind about vegetables, but he ignored Mind Mom. It was bad enough when she nagged him in person.
No one else argued with him, which was great when you were talking to yourself, and he shoveled T-shirts, underwear, and detergent into the washing machine. Once it was rattling at him, Keenan went in search of his sneakers and headed out into the midday sun.
It was warm enough that he didn’t need a jacket, and Keenan basked in the sunshine. The trouble with working at the bar was that he saw very little of the daylight. He missed the heat and the rain, the noise of the construction site, and the laughter. It was great working at the bar, but it was a different sort of atmosphere, and it didn’t allow for much in the way of fresh air.
To pacify Mind Mom, Keenan added a couple of oranges to his order and lemon muffins just for the hell of it. He walked back slowly, his supplies in one arm and eating a muffin. The muffin was so-so, but he was hungry enough that he didn’t care.
Suddenly a large golden retriever ran toward him at full speed and leaped at him. Taken by surprise, there was no way Keenan was able to keep his balance, and he went down under seventy pounds of dog, his bag of food going one way and his half-eaten muffin the other. He just managed to avoid smacking his head on the sidewalk.
“What the hell?” he yelled.
Talking was a bad move as the retriever enthusiastically licked around his mouth at the crumbs of muffin. Then it bounced away to eat the rest of the cake.
“Tucker! Tucker! Come back here. Get back here!”
Tucker—Keenan assumed the dog was called Tucker—ignored the frantic calls and aimed unerringly at the other muffin.
“Oh no you don’t,” Keenan said, trying to pull the dog away from his food. “That’s mine.”
“Tucker!”
Then Nate stood over Keenan, bright red and panting, beads of sweat across his forehead. “I’m so sorry, he—Keenan? What are you doing on the ground? What are you doing here?”
Keenan was still trying to keep Tucker away from gobbling up his food. “I live here. Do you think you could give me a hand?”
“Sure.” Nate grabbed Tucker and clipped a leather leash on his collar, and led Tucker away from the food, despite the dog’s grumbling protests. “You live here?”
“Around the corner.” Keenan got to his feet and attempted to brush himself off and recapture his dignity. “Are you on dog patrol now?”
“What?” Nate blinked and then looked down, seeming to suddenly remember the dog on the end of the leash. “I’m so sorry. I thought I had him clipped, but he spotted a cat and bolted.”
“How far did you run?” Keenan asked.
“Too far,” Nate grimaced, pushing back sweat-slicked hair. “Are you hurt?”
“Only my pride.” Keenan looked down. “And my muffins.”
Tucker was enthusiastically eating the other lemon muffin.
“I’m so sorry,” Nate groaned.
“They weren’t that good,” Keenan assured him. “At least I didn’t buy eggs.”
He kneeled to pick up the rest of his shopping, and received a lick on the cheek from Tucker as a reward. “Ugh, get off me.” But he ended up giving the dog extra love and pats instead of a scolding.
“You like dogs?” Nate asked.
“I like dogs that are under control,” Keenan said pointedly. “I didn’t know you had a dog.” Not that there was any reason he should know Nate had a pet. It wasn’t like they knew everything about each other.
“This is my sister’s dog. She conned me into taking him for a walk this morning.”
“You have a sister who lives in Brooklyn?”
Nate nodded. “It’s one reason I moved here. Because I knew someone in the city.”
“Were you a cop back home?” Keenan asked, his curiosity piqued.
“I was.” Nate’s expression grew wistful. “I liked being a country cop. I thought I’d end up as a sheriff.”
“Yet you ended up in the big city.”
“I needed a change of scene and she suggested I try for the NYPD. I took the police exam and here I am.”
“Your sister must be pleased you’re here,” Keenan suggested.
“She’s thrilled. She gets a free babysitter and dog walker.”
“And what do you get?” Keenan asked, getting indignant on Nate’s behalf.
Nate gave a wry smile. “Exercise?”
“Maybe you ought to take up running. You’ll need to if you want to catch up with him.” He was only half joking. That dog was fast.
Nate nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe I should. Anyway, I’d better leave you to finish your shopping.”
“I think I’ll go home before anyone else tries to mug me for my muffins.”
“Too late. Fucker’s had them
,” Nate pointed out, and they grinned at each other.
“Did you say—?”
“Tucker, with an F,” Nate said hastily.
“Oh.” Keenan smirked as he said goodbye and walked away, aware of Nate’s eyes on him. He had just rounded the corner when he heard his name being called and he turned to see Nate and Tucker jogging toward him. “Practicing running already?” he asked.
“Just wondering if you’d like to go for a dog walk?” Keenan hesitated, and Nate said, “Don’t worry. It was only a suggestion.”
Keenan held up his groceries. “Give me a moment to get rid of this?”
Nate smiled at him, and even Tucker seemed to give him a large, approving doggy grin. “Sure.”
“I live over there.” Keenan pointed to his house and jogged toward it, leaving Nate where he was. It took him a brief moment to stow away his groceries, and then he was back out, via a quick check in the mirror that he had survived the fall unscathed. His face looked flushed, but then being around Nate had that effect on him. Keenan combed his hair with his fingers and picked up his keys. It had been a long time since he’d gone for a walk with a guy. He was looking forward to it, even with Tucker with an F as chaperone.
Nate was outside on the sidewalk waiting patiently. He smiled when Keenan came out and locked the door. “Hi,” he said as Keenan joined him. “I like your house.”
“Me too. I like this area.”
“What made you pick here?”
Keenan fell into step with Nate, Tucker walking between them. He seemed quite sedate now. “The house. It was owned by a friend of my grandparents. By the time he died, it needed remodeling top to bottom. I needed somewhere to live, otherwise I was going to be stuck living with my parents forever. I came to an arrangement with the new owner. I could live there if I organized the repairs.”
“But you’re still there?”
“Two years later my grandmother died and left me some money and together with the compensation I could buy the place outright. I think there was some negotiation with the owner before she died. Anyway, the new owner didn’t want the house, and I did, so I bought it. It’s tiny, but it’s perfect for me.”
“Good for you.” Nate sounded sincere, so Keenan took him at face value.
“Thanks. What about you?”
“I live in Flatbush. I’m renting Ramon’s home. It’s only short-term, but he’s moved in with Mikey and needs the money for the mortgage. I think they’re playing it by ear. If it doesn’t work out….” Nate shrugged.
“Ramon’s got his hands full with Mikey.”
“I’ve heard rumors.”
Tucker spotted a ginger cat and lunged forward. This time Nate was ready for it and held him tighter. “Heel,” he said sharply. Tucker subsided although with an unhappy look at Nate.
“Has he ever been to dog-training classes?” Keenan asked.
“He’s broken every trainer in a twelve-block radius. He’s never made it through a course.”
Keenan snickered and patted Tucker’s head. “Good boy, Tucker.”
“You’re not supposed to encourage him,” Nate said dryly.
“Perhaps you can train him.” Then Keenan thought of this morning. “Maybe not.”
“You don’t have any faith in my doggy whisperer skills?”
Keenan smirked at Nate’s fake outraged expression. “You’re supposed to put him on the leash before you take him out.”
“I’m going to regret asking you along on this dog walk, aren’t I?”
“I’m the one who lost my breakfast,” Keenan pointed out.
“Good point. Once we’ve walked the mutt, how about I buy you lunch to make up for it?”
“Pizza?” Keenan asked hopefully.
“Shh.” Nate put his hands over Tucker’s ears. The dog just looked at him, rather bemused. “Don’t let him hear the p word. He’ll want a slice too.”
Keenan mimed a zipping motion. Tucker was one seriously spoiled doggy.
IN THE end they all got hot dogs, including Tucker. The afternoon was wonderful and neither of them felt like sitting in a pizzeria when they could be enjoying the sunshine. Fortunately, most people were at work, and Tucker had to stay on a leash, so it was a sedate amble eating their food until they reached a shady spot under a tree outside a playground.
Keenan sank down and offered Tucker the hot dog they had bought special for him. Two seconds later, Tucker licked his chops.
“I guess the five-second rule doesn’t apply to him,” Keenan observed.
“Nope. Tucker lives on the “see it, eat it” diet. All food is fair game.” Nate finished the last of his fully loaded hot dog.
“He must get a lot of exercise to keep the weight off.”
“He does now Uncle Nate is in town.”
Nate leaned forward, ran a finger up Keenan’s chin, and offered it to him—mustard and onion. Keenan curled his tongue around Nate’s finger and licked it clean. Just the act went straight to Keenan’s cock. He looked up to see Nate staring at his mouth, his eyes dark. Keenan licked the last trace of mustard and pulled back.
“Damn,” Nate breathed.
What he said. Keenan was hot under the collar. He licked his lips again, and Nate’s eyes darkened. Then, out of the corner of his eye, Keenan spotted Tucker inching closer to his hot dog.
“Mine,” he said and stuffed the rest of it in his mouth.
“He would have had that in a heartbeat,” Nate said.
“He’s a crafty dog. My grandma used to have three German shepherds. One of them, Buster, was always stealing our food. He’d walk past and take it out of your hand. We were kids and thought it was funny until he stole food we wanted to eat.”
Keenan tickled Tucker under the chin. “Sarah had asthma as a kid, so we never had a pet. I asked my parents if I could live with Grandma so I could have a dog. That didn’t go down well with my mom.”
Nate looked him sympathetically. “I grew up with dogs. And cats and rabbits and donkeys. My parents run an animal sanctuary. I spent my childhood mucking out pens.”
“You never wanted to do the same?” Keenan asked.
Nate shook his head. “I always wanted to be a cop.”
“I’m glad you managed to live your dream.” Keenan hadn’t lived his dream, but he always liked to hear that other people had fulfilled theirs.
“Have you managed to look for another job?” Nate asked.
Keenan gave a wry smile. “No. Gideon inveigled me into staying. Or maybe I did that. Either way, I’ll be at Cowboys and Angels for a while.”
“You see yourself staying there as long as you did your other job?”
“For now. I don’t know what else to do.” Keenan had spent long hours wondering the same thing. “I’m nearly thirty. A bit too long in the tooth to start over.”
“You’re twenty-eight, not eighty-eight,” Nate pointed out. At the lunch Keenan had discovered Nate was thirty-nine. “Didn’t Dan put himself through college?”
“And then his fabulously wealthy boyfriend gave him a bar.” Keenan made a face. “I’m sorry, that’s bitchy of me.”
Nate shrugged. “I guess that’s true. But so is what I said. All I’m saying is, don’t give up now. You’re still young and healthy and you’ve got your own teeth.”
Keenan gave a bark of laughter. “Thanks, I think. How long have you got Tucker for?”
“I can take him home now,” Nate said, although he didn’t look at his watch.
Keenan got to his feet and brushed off his ass. He looked down at Nate. “Let’s give him a longer walk.”
“Yes, sir.” Nate gave him a lazy salute, stood up, and gathered Tucker’s leash.
The dog lumbered to his feet and sniffed around, looking for the last scraps of food, and Nate tugged on the leash. Tucker followed, and the three of them wandered through the early afternoon crowds of moms with preschoolers and retired folk enjoying the bright sunshine. It was almost domestic, Keenan thought, like being part of a family.
> “I never thought I’d get a chance to hook up with one of Tucker’s victims,” Nate said.
With that, Keenan’s contented feeling ebbed away. Just a hookup. He had to remember that. He blinked back the sudden emotion and pasted a smile on his face.
Chapter 8
KEENAN UNDERSTOOD the concept of a hookup, but he expected at least one night in the sheets with Nate. Instead it seemed to be all over before it even started. Nate was around. He’d appear at Cowboys and Angels, usually when Keenan was in the middle of a long shift and the bar was ten deep all the way along. Then he’d disappear before Keenan had a chance to talk to him. It was exasperating the hell out of Keenan, who just wanted an hour to call their own.
It was like Nate wanted to see him, to check that he was okay, but not to commit to anything. That left Keenan feeling exasperated and twitchy. It didn’t help that he’d heard from Ramon that Nate had been seen out with other guys. There were rumors flying around the precinct that the new detective was gay, but Nate didn’t confirm or deny it, and those who knew thought it was no one else’s business. Keenan worried for Nate even as he was hurt by the idea that he’d been hooking up elsewhere. There were reasons gay cops kept the closet door firmly locked. Ramon had nodded when Keenan expressed his concerns, but he reassured him that everyone in his squad had Nate’s back. Nate had made a good impression with the other detectives as a hard but fair cop.
Keenan told himself to suck it up and get on with his new job. The trial by fire had turned into everyday work, but Keenan enjoyed it. He got along with most of the staff, although he’d discovered not everyone pulled their weight as hard as Dan did. There was a guy called Liam who did the minimum he could get away with. Everyone was annoyed with Liam, but for some reason, he was untouchable. Keenan stayed as far away from him as he could. He didn’t have time for slackers.
One evening Gideon inquired whether Keenan wanted to reconsider his old job, but Dan overheard and forcefully pointed out that he was not going to lose the first new member of staff who didn’t need his dick held. Keenan and Gideon gave Dan wary glances and vanished in opposite directions.